Dandelion Wishes

Excerpt 1

Cover Created and deigned by Booked n Covered artist Lola Kyle

Copyright © 2017 by Melissa Shirley

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CHAPTER ONE

When I was born a month or so before my due date, my mama wished on a dandelion for my good health. She tells that story-the one where I was moved from the NICU to the healthy-baby nursery only fifteen minutes after I left the womb-with such southern charm that no one dares doubt the truth of those blowing seeds accounting for my salvation. No one except me and a hospital full of doctors, that is.

Not that I would ever tell her, but I've spent the entire night wondering how many dandelions it will take to wish myself right of Black Ridge, Oklahoma, to a place where I'm no longer seen as the younger, smaller, less popular Cuyler sister; to a place where I have more than two friends; to a place where my mama isn't bursting into my room every morning with her sing-song voice that arrives ten second before she does.

Tomorrow is the first day of school, and I'm expected to give up my last day at the lake and spend it at the mall with her shopping for new school clothes. I hear her calling out. "Wakey, wakey, eggs and bake-y."

The annoying happiness in her voice gives me a chance to slink further beneath the blankets to hide. "Come on, Melanie. We have to get school shopping out of the way."

Shopping? No. Not with her.

She pats my leg as she walks past. "Wake up, Melanie. Your daddy is ready to drop us at the mall."

I yank the pillow over my head, hoping as if I'm unaware of her tenacity, she'll give up and go away. After I've given her sufficient time to gather my laundry and sashay her way out of my room, I lift the pillow off my face enough for a quick peek just as she breezes in again and bends down to pick up a book from the floor to set on the desk. "I let you slide all summer on this shopping trip, but tomorrow's your first day, and you need some new things to wear to school. I have your daddy's credit card." She pulls it from the front pocket of her skirt and waves it like a prize. "You can get more overalls if you want."

I tuck the blanket under my chin and burrow deeper into the mattress. "I don't need new overalls, Mama. I have plenty."

"I'm sure you need something. How long has it been since you bought any bras or panties?" I roll my eyes as she looks away to drop another pile of clothes into my laundry hamper. "You could get a new dress, some shoes, whatever you want, honey."

"Mama, this is the last day of my summer vacation, and I don't want to waste it at the mall with you. I'd rather chop off my own arm and beat myself to death with it." That sounds a lot harsher than I intend or is fair. It isn't Mama I mind as much as the mall itself with its fluorescent lights, cliques of cool girls browsing the racks, and over-eager sales people with measuring tapes and too-strong perfume.

Mama turns away from my desk, almost facing me, and the light in her eyes flickers and dies. Smoothing her hands down her dress, she nods without looking at me. "Okay then."

Yep. This is the person I've become, and I don't know how it happened. Mama's taken to saying-and saying it a little too often, if I'm honest-I could start an argument in an empty house, but I can't quite place a defining incident that would have caused me to turn from a nice little girl everyone loved playing with to someone who can look at her mama and hurt her for no reason.